


Wake Up Call

by westgate



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westgate/pseuds/westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Grantaire can pinpoint the exact moment when Enjolras wakes, which would be when he gives a particularly prolonged swipe of his tongue to the slit of his cock. Enjolras’s eyes shoot open and before he can open his mouth to start questioning what is happening, a moan escapes his lips and Grantaire grins wickedly.</p><p>“Grantaire, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he finally manages to choke out, struggling to keep his composure."</p><p>Morning E/R blowjobs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up Call

Grantaire doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. 

 _This_ being waking up in bed next to a golden god every morning. Not that it’s a bad thing.

They’ve been together for a little over six months now and Grantaire still finds himself with the urge to pinch himself to wake up from this terribly cruel dream because it is too impossibly good to be true and yet somehow it is.

Now, he’s aware that Enjolras is human. He leaves toothpaste in the sink, cannot properly use the stove without setting the fire alarm off, and has to be physically dragged out of bed each morning if he does not set an alarm (or three). But the sun is peeking through the curtains at just the right angle to make Enjolras’ golden hair glow and for a moment Grantaire forgets how to breathe.

Enjolras is so incredibly peaceful and all the more stunning when he is asleep. There is no revolutionary fervor, no righteous determination written across his face but instead there is a childlike innocence in his features that Grantaire can only describe as beautiful –Jehan would cringe for his lack of poetic creativity, but it’s hard to wax poetry at 9 in the morning when you haven’t had a cup of coffee yet.

He’s propped up on his elbows watching his Apollo sleep – _his_ , a term that clutches at his heart because he still cannot believe he’s been allowed the privilege to call him so.

Enjolras is free with his affection towards Grantaire –casual intimate touches, kisses for every occasion, and the phrase that makes Grantaire smile like a goon and his heart flutter, “I love you”. No, Enjolras has made it clear that he is just as invested in this relationship as Grantaire is, Grantaire is just still coming to terms with the fact that he’s basically the luckiest fucking guy in the universe.

Enjolras’ wild curls (Grantaire refers to it as his lion’s mane, which always makes Enjolras crack a smile despite his best attempts at a scowl) are spread out across the pillow and Grantaire’s fingers curl involuntarily as he battles with himself because he cannot decide in that moment if he would like to reach out and run his fingers through his hair or reach for his art supplies and paint him.

How is it possible to be so fucking elegant while sleeping? Enjolras is sprawled out like a fucking painting on Grantaire’s bed, bare except for the white cotton sheets that are delicately draped across his lower torso.

Grantaire is hard in the way that mornings encourage, and finds himself moving closer to Enjolras to drink in the sight of his gorgeous boyfriend.

He starts by placing a gentle kiss to his temple and when Enjolras doesn’t stir, he leaves a trail of kisses down his chest. Grantaire cannot resist the temptation to flick the flat of his tongue across a nipple and smiles when he sees it begin to harden. Enjolras has shown no signs that he is disturbed, only the soft sudden inhale when Grantaire grows riskier and nips lightly at the hardened nub he has created.

Enjolras has proved to be a heavy sleeper on more than one occasion, and this morning is no exception. But Grantaire is determined in waking sleeping beauty from his slumber (Enjolras would complain like the grumpy cat he is if he heard the comparison) and grows bolder by the minute as he removes the sheet from around Enjolras’ waist.

After all, Grantaire is an artist and it is a crime to cover up art.

Enjolras looks so incredibly natural nude, like he was meant to walk in ancient Greece with the Gods and be praised for his otherworldly and indescribable beauty.

Grantaire can’t help but feel self-conscious in comparison, but he is working on it. Enjolras has pinned him down time and time again, aggressively whispering “you are beautiful” into Grantaire’s ear and kissing every inch of his body until he made him believe it. Well, made him believe that _Enjolras_ thinks he’s beautiful, which is as good as it is going to get for the time being. He’ll always have that voice in the back of his head, he thinks, shouting the opposite. It _has_ , however, gotten increasingly easier to ignore the voice, especially when his limbs are in a tangle and he is fighting to figure out just exactly where he ends and Enjolras begins.

Grantaire nudges Enjolras’ legs apart and takes his time kissing up his thighs and relishing the feel of the firm muscle beneath his fingers, which he drags across the smooth skin.He’s flooded with images of himself fucking into those thighs, but presses the heel of his palm to his ever-growing erection to stave off any further desires.Grantaire is a man with a mission, and he won’t let his wayward cock betray him.

Although he supposes this is what started his mission in the first place.

 _No_ , what started this quest was his overwhelming desire to make Enjolras feel pleasure, to see him wake with heavy lidded eyes and to be able to witness the moment of shock and lust when it dawns on him _just_ what Grantaire is doing. Damn Grantaire’s own desires, this is more important to him.

Enjolras’ cock is soft, and Grantaire curses himself for mentally thinking about just how cute he finds it in this state. _Is that weird?_ No, Grantaire is certain that he’d find just about anything cute if it involved Enjolras. Enjolras could sneeze all over himself and Grantaire would still find it endearing.

What happened to his hardened cynic heart? That’s right, the sun itself melted its cold exterior. Who is he kidding, he’s always been a giant softie, he just hides it well.

He rubs his stubbled jaw across Enjolras’ thighs, rough enough to leave marks and just how Enjolras likes it, before placing the most chaste kiss to the tip of Enjolras’ cock.Then, without further delay, he takes the entire length of it into his mouth and his nose meets the dusting of light hair trailing down from his boyfriend’s navel.

Enjolras’ hips buck ever so slightly as Grantaire begins to suck, and Grantaire grins as he feels his cock begin to harden and fill under his ministrations. Grantaire takes his time, savoring the act. If there’s one thing in this world Grantaire really likes, it’s giving head. Grantaire is by no means perfect, in fact quite flawed in many aspects, but he is confident in his ability at giving head.

Grantaire can pinpoint the exact moment when Enjolras wakes, which would be when he gives a particularly prolonged swipe of his tongue to the slit of his cock. Enjolras’s eyes shoot open and before he can open his mouth to start questioning what is happening, a moan escapes his lips and Grantaire grins wickedly.

“Grantaire, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he finally manages to choke out, struggling to keep his composure.

Few people get to see Enjolras struggle in anything and Grantaire is filled with a surge of pride that he not only gets to see this side of Enjolras, but that _he_  is directly responsible.He slides off of Enjolras’ cock with a loud, frankly obscene noise to respond and Enjolras whines slightly at the loss.

“Ah, he stirs at last. Have I woken Sleeping Beauty from his slumber?” he says, smirking.

Grantaire chuckles lightly and grins because he’s right, Enjolras does look like the grumpy cat. The expression is short lived though, as Grantaire quickly ducks his head down and continues his ministrations, swirling his tongue and humming as he goes.

“I ah- I ‘m decidedly not complaining. I can’t think of a better wake to wake – _god_ yes Gran _taire_ ” he cuts off, because Grantaire is cruel, Grantaire is a godsend, Grantaire is particularly good at deep throating and Enjolras isn’t sure how much longer his control can last.

Not that he has any control at all when it comes to Grantaire, who is a wild force to be reckoned with.

Enjolras _needs_ to get a grip on something or he might die ( _so dramatic_ , Grantaire might say if his mouth weren’t currently occupied) and so he fists the sheets with one hand and grabs a handful of Grantaire’s wild dark curls with the other and tugs. Grantaire answers with a loud moan and it’s so good, so good, Enjolras is fighting every urge to come right there and then.

But Enjolras has very little self-control, and is about to tell Grantaire he’s getting close to coming when Grantaire, _the tease_ pops off of his cock and starts to stroke him in a loose fist that is _not enough_ pressure and he knows it. Enjolras whines loudly and looks at his boyfriend with wild eyes, who is sitting there batting his eyelashes innocently and stroking _agonizingly slow_.

“Something wrong?” he hears Grantaire say and he knows the game they’re about to play.

Grantaire knows what he needs, knows how Enjolras likes to be teased despite his loud protests. Enjolras is steadfast in his determination in all aspects of life, but when it comes to Grantaire he is not above begging and Grantaire knows it, relishes it.

“ _Please_ ” rips from his lips and his voice is so hoarse he hardly recognizes it.

“Please what, Enjolras? _Go on_. I want to hear you” he answers in turn, Grantaire knowing that he has won.

“Please _please_ , touch my cock, not enough it’s _not enough_. I need-“ he inhales sharply when Grantaire’s thumb swipes over the slit and he’s leaking so much and he needs it he needs–

“I need to _come_. Please let me come, please. _Need you_.”

Those were the right words because Grantaire responds with, “Since you asked so nicely,” and swallows him down entirely.

Enjolras is spilling down his throat moments later, toes curling and head thrown back in ecstasy. By the time he comes back to down from his orgasm Grantaire has swallowed the evidence of his release and is sitting next to him, smirk proudly worn on his face.

Enjolras grabs his shoulders roughly, pushes him down on the bed, and kisses him fiercely. When they part for air, Grantaire mutters something about morning breath, to which he responds,“You just had my cock in your mouth, are you really concerned about morning breath?”

Grantaire laughs it off and kisses him again, this time more delicately, lovingly.

Enjolras wishes every morning could be like this with Grantaire, hopes that in the future it will be. Enjolras has never been one for relationships, hasn’t had the time for them and felt them necessary, but with Grantaire everything is different. Enjolras can see a future with Grantaire, _wants_ a future with Grantaire, but that would be a heavy conversation at barely 9:30 in the morning.

“I love you,” Enjolras says instead, and his heart warms at the way Grantaire lights up with he says this.

Enjolras never wants Grantaire to doubt for a moment that this is true, and so he says it often, and when not out loud he hopes his actions show just how important Grantaire is to him.

“I love you too,” Grantaire says sheepishly, and Enjolras kisses his forehead in response.

“If every time I forget to set an alarm ends like this, I may never set an alarm again.” Enjolras laughs, and Grantaire winks. “Although it’s early,” he adds, faking a scowl.

He runs his hands across the inside of his thighs and sighs contentedly as he feels the scratches from Grantaire’s scruff. He looks at his boyfriend and cocks an eyebrow, to which Grantaire responds, “You know your thighs are my weakness.”

Enjolras chuckles, and give Grantaire a once-over. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that Grantaire hasn’t touched himself or even asked to be touched. His fingers ghost over Grantaire cock teasingly, and then he gets up off the bed and makes for the bathroom door.

He hears Grantaire whine and curse under his breath, but looks back to add “Well _Alexander_ , why don’t you join me and worship my thighs in the shower?” He isn’t looking, but he’s pretty sure he hears the _thud_ of Grantaire falling out of bed and scampering to his feet.

Yes, Enjolras could get used to mornings like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the support! [Come say hi on Tumblr](http://www.westgates.tumblr.com) and follow for updates


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